


Cooking the Stress Away

by SugeredFox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Baking, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Short & Sweet, Stress Baking, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugeredFox/pseuds/SugeredFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles needs a distraction from the world, even if its something small.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking the Stress Away

The last three years have been hell on earth and Stiles was just done with it. He honestly needed a break from the constant nightmares, panic attacks and the now to common thoughts of death. The wake up call for him was after the Nogitsune possessed him. The dark thoughts and uncertainly clung around him like a fog and after he woke up for the twelfth week in a row screaming himself horse, Stiles knew he needed to do something.

He had woke up crying, wrapped in his fathers arms yet again, pleading for Scott to be ok. When he had calmed down enough for his dad to leave for work, John handed him a book. It was old, fraying and stained with fruit juices. It was the best thing Stiles was ever given because it was his mother’s cookbook.   
From that moment on when ever Stiles mind would take a turn for the worse he would pull out and read the hand written notes his mother had loving wrote. It wasn’t until the fifth time Stiles pulled out the book, did he think of actually cooking the baked goods. 

The first time wasn’t horrible but it wasn’t anything to brag about. Ok who was he trying to kid, it was a complete disaster. The oil wasn’t hot enough when he placed the dough for the Paczki (Polish donuts) so the light dough soaked up the oil. The second batch was just as bad but this time Stiles had been distracted but Scott who was flipping out about an anniversary present for Kira so the dough burned. But as they say the third time was the charm. The Paczki was light and airy, maybe a little too sweet from all the jam and powered sugar but the watery smile on his dad’s face when he took a bite was what made it worth it.

After that Stiles began to bake more and more. Their house now had the permanent smell of sugar and melted butter wafting around it. Stiles friends notice the different with in a week.

“Dude! Why do you smell like a bakery?” Scott asked, taking a not so stealthy sniff at Stiles shoulder.

“It might because our house is now one and Scott please don’t sniff my son or at lest wait until I’m not in the room.” Scott smiled sheepishly at the Sheriff.

“Sorry, its just he smells so…good.”

“You have been baking and not sharing with us? So rude!” Kira said with a small whine.

“I wasn’t going to bring in the charred remainders of my failures but I guess they aren’t too bad now since I have had some practice. I’ll bring in some stuff ok?”

Scott and Kira high-fived looking way to smug for people only getting some cookies.

“When did you decide to start baking?” Derek asked. (Yes! I know! There was a question mark! A real live question mark! Who would have thought Derek could do it?) Stiles just shrugged choosing to ignore the question and focus more on beating their Asses in Mario Cart. 

After that Stile made sure to bring a treat with him to the pack meetings. Mostly to stop his dad from eating all the sugary pastry; though it was a bit of an ego boost when Isaac or Scott let out a moan of pleasure with each bite. 

“You should think about culinary school.” Lydia said as she popped a piece of Plum Cake between her perfectly painted red lips. 

“I take it back Stilinski, you are attractive to gay guys…and strait guys and girls and everything under the sun.” Said Danny, helping himself to seconds.

“Nah. I just like doing it. Baking is just fun you know?” Stiles blushed, rubbing the back of his head feeling unworthy of the praise he was getting. But he was doing something right, after all the wrong he has done at least he has this.

Stile caught Derek starring at him and quickly looked away. Derek has grown these past few months, for some reason he trusted the Pack more, which doesn’t make any sense, if anything Derek should be running for the hills. Yet after Brandon left…he stayed. How could he stay? Stiles peered around the room. Most of the smiling faces once tried to kill Derek or maim or lock him in jail or lead death to his doorstep. How the fuck could he be ok with any of this, better yet, any of them? 

A sick, rolling feeling sloshed in Stiles guts. He needed to get out of there. Out of the people sitting in the room with him Stiles felt the most unclean, the most blood splattered of them all. Shit. Shit. Shit fuck. How could Derek look at him? Wasn’t it Stiles fault he got arrested twice? Because of Stiles Scott got bit and Peter that fucking creep had to be put down by Derek. Derek had to kill part of his family. This was his fault. All his fault. Stiles gagged and before anyone could comment, he fled out of the room to his jeep and away from his friends.

That night Stiles baked Babka, Makowiec and Racuchy. If he burned himself a few too many times on the oven, well there was no one there to call out on his “accidents”. 

Stilies continued baking, honing his newly found stills. His father approved even if most of the baking happen at nighttime and only after he woke his son up from the horrific nightmares. The one thing that did bother the Sheriff was how now it seemed that Stiles wasn’t even trying to go to sleep. He would come home from school or a pack meeting and immediately start baking. Enough was enough when John walked down stairs and found Stiles covered in flour for the fourth night in a row.

“Please, son, get some sleep.”

“I can’t dad. I try and I just see….I cant please. Please understand that I cant. Not now.” John sighed heavily.

“This isn’t good for you Stiles. You know that the human body needs some type of rest. Even if it’s for a few hours.”

“I cant! I just can’t let myself go to sleep! What if I close my eyes and I don’t wake up! What if its still there! Waiting for me to fuck up! I can’t do that to you dad!” Stiles screamed, panic rising in his voice. John held back tears as he watched his son fall even more apart. 

“I…its ok. It’s ok.” John wrapped Stiles in a tight hug wishing desperately there was more that he could do.

After his little melt down in front of his dad Stiles started to notice a certain Sour Wolf creeping around. 

Whether it was tailing him on his way to school or hiding in the bushes near the lacrosse field Derek was there. He was even at the food store when Stiles had to get more supplies (aka chocolate chips cause everything is better with chocolate).

“If you want to be like a normal human cough once, for creepy stalker cough twice.” The teen muttered under his breath knowing full well Derek could hear him. 

Cough.

“Great, met me at my house you weird-o.” Of course Derek didn’t do what Stiles wanted, he just stood next to him and breathed reeeaalllly closely to his ear. What. The. Fuck. At least he wasn’t following him around like a Villon in a bad Lifetime movie.

Back at the house Stiles made Derek stand awkwardly in the hall until he finished unpacking.

“Do I want to know why you have been following me? Is there some group of pixies out for me? A rogue Big Foot? Maybe you don’t trust me cause of the whole…”

“No.”

“No what?” Stiles asked folding his arms over his chest, imitating the werewolf in front of him.

“No to all of the above. I wasn’t following you either, just checking up on you.” Derek scowled, looking everywhere but at younger man.

“Ya…ok no. Dude you suck at stealth. If you aren’t here to keep an eye on me-” 

“I am. Keeping an eye on you. I heard you. Talking to your dad. I just…” Derek flushed a light shade of red.

“I want you to feel safe again.” Stiles didn’t know how to react and frankly he was to sleep deprived to try. Instead he took Derek by the wrist and led him into the kitchen. With out needing any propping the Werewolf slipped an apron on and reached for the mixing bowls.

A new routine was born. A creepy, unnerving but sweet routine.

Now when Stiles woke from a nightmare Derek would be waiting for him in the kitchen surrounded by bowls and unopened packages of flour. 

“My dad is going to freak if he finds you here.” Stiles stated the first time it happened.

“No. I told him before that I was checking up on you.”

“Sure but now? At…” Stiles peaked at the stove clock. “Three fourteen in the morning? I highly doubt that big guy.” Derek just shrugged and pointed to a recipe for Crullers.

Soon the two young men could be found at all times of the day baking together. Derek shared a few precious Hale cookie recipes he remembered from his past and Stiles would suggest new baked good for them to try. They only burned the kitchen once and it wasn’t even a big fire according to Stiles.  
Derek started to sleep over once a week, which turn into a few days a week to John inviting him to move in. Derek convinced Stiles to go to culinary school so he could grow and get away from the pack and supernatural drama. At first Stiles refused saying that he needed to be there.

“Why! Why do you want to say in that life Stiles? Its not health for you!”

“I have to! I need to make sure that Scott is ok, I need to make sure nothing is going to happen to my dad or Melissa or anyone else I love! I cant go to school for something that is-”

“Its what you love. It makes you happy. We want you to be happy Stiles. I want you to be happy.” They stared off at one enough; pressed so closely together a piece of paper couldn’t fit.

“I know you feel guilt, we all do but we know that its time to move on.” Derek thumped his forehead gently against Stiles.   
“Lets move on together.”

That day when John came home it was to the ever present pile of treats and to his two idiots kissing by an over flowing pot on the stov


End file.
